


Claustrophobic

by Onyxim



Category: DCU (Animated), Justice League & Justice League Unlimited (Cartoons)
Genre: Alliteration, Bruce In Love, Claustrophobia, Claustrophobic Clark, Crushes, Humor, M/M, Pre-Slash, Romance¿?, Superbat In A Box, hyperventilation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-05
Updated: 2016-02-05
Packaged: 2018-05-18 07:29:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,224
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5906053
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Onyxim/pseuds/Onyxim
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Batman and Superman are trapped in a box. A very, very, very small box.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Claustrophobic

Batman blearily opened his eyes to complete darkness. Though it wasn't the first time, there was the small millisecond of panic, because there was nothing worse than being blind. He couldn't move his arms enough to activate the night vision in his cowl's lenses. He shifted his hips--the backs of his knees were resting on something hard, but moving. He brought his foot back as best he could and kicked.

"Oof!"

He couldn't see and he couldn't move his shoulders.  "Superman?"

There was a beat of silence, then a strained, "Yeah?" The voice was pretty close, maybe a few inches away from his face.

_He was in a close space with Clark._

"Can you tell where we are?"

A shaky inhale. "Inside a, ah, a lead lined box." He stopped. "And I hear water."

Batman cursed under his breath. "How are you sitting?"

"My back's pressed up against one wall. . ." He paused. "I think my knees are digging into your back."

"Yes, I feel it. Keep going."

"Your legs are over my shoulder. I think you're sitting in my lap. . ." Clark huffed a laugh. "You're really flexible."

"Flexible, not comfortable. I can't move my arms. I assume you can't move yours, either." Batman tried to shift his arms. He heard the glittery clank of metal. His hands were hooked around Clark's ankle, making his position awkward. "Handcuffs?"

"Unfortunately." Superman's voice was a rush of air. His breathing was unsteady.

Batman frowned, but doubted Clark could see it. "Are you alright?"

Superman's body was trembling now, breaths shallow. "Never better," he squeaked.

Did the Man of Steel just. . . _squeak?_

 

Something was definitely wrong.

"Are you claustrophobic, Clark?" Batman asked slowly.

The man in question made a sound that could only be described as a whimper.

Batman sighed. "Oh, for. . .calm down. You'll be fine."

"I can't move," Clark whined. "Bruce, I can't move."

"It's okay. Just breathe." Bruce shifted a bit, trying to alleviate the growing ache in his shoulders. He had to lean forward, close to Clark's face. His heart thudded unintentionally. "You hear my heartbeat?"

". . .yes."

"Well, it has nothing to do with the box." He internally winced. He _really_  didn't mean to say that. "Just. . .just focus on that, okay?"

"Okay."

Clark's breathing didn't get any better, although the trembling stopped. It was silent for a while, Clark's harsh pants right next to his face, and his experimental tug of the handcuffs. A sudden cloud of doubt came over him when he realized that, even if he _did_  manage to get himself out of his handcuffs, the action would be futile, for his belt was out of reach and he didn't have anything in it he could use to help them escape (besides his bombs, but the only person who'd be making it out alive would be Clark).

"I can try to get myself out of the handcuffs, but it won't do any good. Can you try to break the box?"

"I can't move my arms Bruce." His voice was more urgent, and he gulped in air. "It's too tight in here, it's too hot, oh God, Bruce, help me, I'm going to throw up--"

"Clark, don't you dare," Bruce snapped. The last thing he needed was to be covered in whatever Clark ate for breakfast in a small space. "You can move your legs, can't you?"

There was a shift underneath his back. Clark swallowed thickly. "Yeah."

"Try kicking the box."

"Bruce--"

"You want air, don't you? Or do you want to be stuck in here forever?" Bruce cringed at the tone of his voice, like he was scolding a child.

Clark didn't answer. He tried thrusting his leg forward. His foot met the wall of the box and it made a dull thunk sound, with the barest echo of the dull ring of metal. Bruce stiffened.

"Shit," he muttered.

"What?"

Bruce didn't think he could tell him.

"Don't freak out. I mean it, Clark."

"I won't. What is it?"

"The box is metal, and lead lined, of course. But didn't you say you heard water?"

"Yeah."

"Are we _in_ the water?"

Clark went silent for a minute. "I. . .I think we're _under_ water."

Bruce sighed for a very long time.

Clark gulped again.

"Clark."

"Huh?"

"Don't you dare throw up."

\-----

Bruce counted about forty-five grueling minutes before the box abruptly rocked to the side--pulling a choked sound from Clark--and it felt like they were being lifted in an elevator.

Bruce sighed in relief. Whether or not it was someone good or bad pulling them back up, he wanted to get the hell out of the box. Clark had been hyperventilating the entire time, until Bruce eventually snapped, "Goddammit, Clark, I know you don't need air, but _I_ do! Stop inhaling it all!"

Of course, Clark tried and failed to calm himself down, as he had went quiet only for a short few seconds before he started up again.

Though it wasn't the only reason he wanted to get out of the box.

He could blame it on the constant blush he had going on (he couldn't get it to go away) and his thudding heart.

The box was thrown roughly onto hard ground, making Clark gasp and Bruce grunt because now they were upside down. There were muffled voices and suddenly the box was caving in, the now disfigured metal pressing into Clark's back. The wall disappeared, sunlight seared Bruce's retinas after being adjusted to the darkness so long, but the clear, fresh air washed over them both like a bucket of cold water. They slumped out awkwardly, Clark twitching and panting under Batman and Batman fumbling to get off of him, which was a bit hard in handcuffs. 

There were about four other Leaguers there, Zatanna, Flash, Hawkgirl, and Wonder Woman. Zatanna gave Bruce a sly look from Diana's side and Bruce looked away.

Wonder Woman looked down at them, an eyebrow raised in amusement. "Have fun?"

"Not at all," Superman huffed, his eyes squeezed shut, but he was smiling. The sunlight washed over him is glorious waves, and Bruce never thought he'd ever seen a more beautiful scene. Clark's hair wild but his face at peace. The way he seemed to glow when his body started taking in the sun's rays again.

Bruce watched as Diana hefted Clark up to his feet. Bruce got to work getting himself out of his handcuffs while Clark got himself out of his.

Zatanna snuck up behind him. "You're a bit quiet."

"Am I usually louder?"

Bruce and Zatanna stood at the sidelines, watching the other Leaguers converse.

"You were blushing."

"Was not," he automatically said, tossing the handcuffs to the ground (his shaky fingers probably prevented him from getting them off faster).

"Did something happen in there?"

Bruce paused.

 _Did_ something happen? Being so close to Clark was. . .comfortable, to say in the least. He glanced over at his aforementioned colleague, who was talking with the leaguers about their previous mission (which had lead them to end up in the damned box in the first place).

Clark looked over at him and smiled. Bruce's heart thudded and he turned away, but there was the _tiniest_ smile on his face.

Not that he'd ever admit it.

Zatanna elbowed him and said smugly, "I thought you said you _weren't_ blushing."

**Author's Note:**

> Can we make Claustrophobic Clark a thing or is that just me that finds it amusing~
> 
>  
> 
> Anyone catch the Divergent reference? c:


End file.
